CHAPTER XXXIV
"GOOD OLD SHORTY!"
Della Wharton had watched from one of the windows of her room in thehotel. She had seen Lawler and Shorty ride down the street to Warden'soffice; she had seen Shorty come out carrying Lawler; and she heardShorty's steps on the stairs as he brought his burden up, preceded bythe proprietor.
She was standing in the hall when the proprietor and Shorty reached theupper landing, and when the proprietor looked inquiringly at her shesilently motioned toward her room, and stood aside as Shorty entered andplaced his limp burden upon the bed. Lawler was unconscious and ghastlypale.
Della instantly took charge of Lawler. Which means that she setseriously to work with him, while Shorty stood by, his arms folded overhis huge chest, one hand caressing his chin, grimly watching.
Shorty continued to watch. For many days he stood guard over his"boss"--a somber, brooding figure, silent, imperturbable. When he movedit was only to walk slowly up and down the hall, or downstairs to takehis meals. At other times he would stand at the bedside looking down atLawler's closed eyes and ashen face; or he would sit on the edge of achair and watch him, intently, with stoic calm, his face asexpressionless as a stone image.
Mrs. Lawler came early the next morning--after the doctor had told Dellaand Shorty there was a fighting chance for Lawler; and Ruth Hamlin.Shorty's eyes grew moist as he watched Mrs. Lawler and Ruth as theystood by the unconscious man; and his voice was low and gruff when,during the day Mrs. Lawler asked him for particulars.
"That's all there was to it, ma'am," he said in conclusion. "The bossoughtn't to have busted in that shack like he did, knowin' Antrim wasthere--an' givin' the scum a chance to take the first shot at him. Buthe done it. An' he done the same thing to Warden--offered him the firstshot. Ma'am, I never heard the beat of it! I've got nerve--as the sayin'is. But--Lordy!"
And Shorty became silent again.
For three days Lawler remained unconscious. And during that intervalthere were no disturbing sounds to agitate the deathlike quiet of thesickroom. Riders glided into town from various points of the compass andstepped softly as they moved in the street--whispering or talking in lowtones. The universal topic was the fight, and Lawler's condition. On thesecond day of Lawler's unconsciousness a keen-eyed man stepped off theeast-bound train and made his way to the hotel.
"I'm Metcalf of the _News_, in the capital," he told Keller, theproprietor. And Keller quietly ushered the newspaperman upstairs, wherethe latter stood for a long time until Mrs. Lawler opened the door ofthe sickroom for him. Metcalf entered, looked down at Lawler, and thendrew Shorty aside where, in a whispered conversation he obtained theparticulars of the fight and the wounding of Lawler. He took thewest-bound train that night.
A pall seemed to have settled over Willets. The atmosphere was tense,strained. Riders from Caldwell's ranch, from Sigmund's, fromLester's--and from other ranches came in; and important-looking men fromvarious sections of the state alighted from the trains at the stationand lingered long in the dingy foyer of the hotel. One of these wasrecognized by Keller as McGregor, secretary of the State CentralCommittee of Lawler's party. And Keller noted that McGregor wore aworried look and that he scowled continually.
Willets waited; the riders who came into town waited; it seemed to theresidents of Willets that the whole state waited, with its collectivegaze upon the little room in the hotel where a man lay, fighting for hislife.
Shorty waited--still silent, the somber brooding light in his eyes; hisjaws set a little tighter, his eyes filled with a deeper glow. Shortysaid no word to any man regarding the deadly intention that reigned inhis heart. He merely waited, watching Lawler, grimly determined that ifLawler died he would keep his promise to "come for" Warden.
But Shorty would not have found Warden in town. On the night of theshooting Warden had taken the west-bound train, and the next day he wascloseted with the governor and Hatfield--the three of them sitting inthe governor's office, where, their faces pale, though expressing noregret, they sat and talked of the fight and conjectured over itsprobable consequences.
Singleton stayed close to the Two Diamond; and after the second day,Della Wharton rode to the ranch and sat brooding over the failure of herplans. When Lawler had been brought into the hotel she had entertained ahope that the situation might be turned to her advantage. But there hadbeen something in Ruth Hamlin's clear, direct eyes that had convincedher of the futility of attempting to poison her mind against Lawler byreferring to her stay in the line cabin with Lawler. She saw faith inRuth's eyes--complete, disconcerting; and it had made her feel inferior,unworthy, cheap, and inconsequential.
On the fourth day Lawler regained consciousness. The doctor had toldthem all that the crisis was at hand; that if the fever broke, markingthe end of the delirium which had seized him, he would awaken normalmentally, though inevitably weak. But if the fever did not break therewould be no hope for him.
Mrs. Lawler, Ruth, and Shorty were in the room with Lawler when heopened his eyes. For a long time the three stood, breathlessly watchingas Lawler lay, staring in bewilderment at the ceiling, at the walls, andout of the windows, through which came a soft, subdued light.
Presently Lawler raised his head a trifle, saw them all, and smiled. Theclear light of reason was in his eyes.
"Mother, Ruth, and Shorty," he said, weakly smiling. "I've known for along time that you were here. But I couldn't let you know. Mother andRuth--and Shorty," he repeated; and then, in a lower voice, that trailedoff into a murmur as he closed his eyes and appeared to be fallingasleep: "Good old Shorty!"
Ruth and Mrs. Lawler were clasped in each other's arms, joy unutterablein their eyes. It was some time before they turned, to look at Shorty.
The tawny giant was standing near the foot of the bed. His lips werequivering, his eyes were wet, his whole body seemed to be racked withemotion that he could not suppress. He was making an heroic effort,though--an effort that made the cords of his neck stand out lividly;that swelled his muscles into knotty bunches.
"Damn it!" he growled as he turned his head away from Ruth and Mrs.Lawler, so that they might not see what was reflected there; "thereain't no sense of him gettin' mush-headed about it!"